


Reminiscing

by MoonlitPaladin (MoonlitStardust)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Sick Fic, Valentines Day Shance Exchange, pure fluff and sweetness, shance, valentines day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 18:56:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17792891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonlitStardust/pseuds/MoonlitPaladin
Summary: Lance and Shiro take a walk down memory lane while Shiro is under the weather.





	Reminiscing

“I’m telling you, Lance, you don’t need to go through all of this trouble.”

 

Lance turned his head and glanced over his shoulder, arching a perfect brow, “when you told me that you were sick, I expected a different kind of whining. Quit trying to get me to leave you alone to be miserable.”

 

His lover grumbled to himself from his too-short couch and Lance turned his attention back to the simmering broth that he was nursing on the stovetop, sniffing at the curling steam. After taking a satisfactory taste, he ladled the soup into a bowl and carefully walked it into the living room. Before he could get out a word, Shiro was forcing himself into a sitting position. Lance was cut off the moment he opened his mouth.

 

“I wasn’t going to risk you trying to feed me.”

 

“Hmmph,” Lance play pouted as he gingerly handed the steaming bowl over to Shiro, making sure he had a firm hold before he let go, “some people would find that cute.”

 

“Those people,” Shiro retorted with a snort, “probably haven’t already had someone spill something on them. I’m already sick, I don’t need third-degree burns.”

 

“Scald a man one time and you’re branded forever!”

 

“I could have died, Lance.”

 

“Oh, it was just your hand, you big baby!”

 

Despite his attempt at a teasing smile, Shiro’s expression was still strained. The brunt of his fever was bearing down on him, broad shoulders sagging under its influence. The disquiet he felt at seeing his lover, the Atlas of his universe, struggle beneath the weight of his illness left him feeling antsy. Of course, the sickness would pass but it was never easy to watch it play its tricks and leave the strong to kneel in its wake. Lance was quiet, watching carefully as he took several sips.

 

“Taste okay?”

 

Shiro nodded and then groaned, pressing the heel of his hand against his temple, “it’s great, thanks.”

 

“Why don’t you lay back down? You look ready to fall out and I can always just warm up some more.”

 

Tired slate eyes crinkled weakly as his partner smiled, easily sensing Lance’s ceaseless worry.

 

“Will you take a break if I lay back down? It’s no good if we’re both ready to drop.”

 

“Whatever gets you to relax.”

 

“It’s hard to relax when you’re puttering around like mad.”

 

“Hey, you can’t blame a man for wanting to look after his other half.”

 

“I’ve been sick before and managed okay.”

 

“Pfft,” Lance rolled his eyes and leaned forward in his chair, narrowing his eyes, “you are the most restless person I know when you have to be cooped up. The department was right to mandate that you stay home but if I hadn’t shown up, you’d probably be trying to scrub the house clean until you passed out somewhere. With me here, you’ve got to deal with being waited on- Oh, the horror.”

 

“Ugh,” Shiro groaned as he slowly lowered himself back down onto his side, nestling his cheek against the plush arm of the sofa, “what kind of boyfriend won’t let me work myself to death in peace?”

 

“The most wonderful, brilliant, sexy kind?”

 

“Where would I find one of those?”

 

“If you weren’t sick I’d kick your ass.”

 

“No offense sweetheart, but I would  **_have_ ** to be sick for you to be able to kick my ass.”

 

“Good to know the fever has already turned your brains to soup,” Lance sighed dramatically, “whatever will I tell our friends?”

 

“That my last request was to never let you watch soap operas again?”

 

“Cruel and unusual punishment for a very loving partner.”

 

Shiro tried to chuckle but the sound was cut short by a fit of coughing.

 

“You shouldn’t be talking much or your throat is going to be like sandpaper.”

 

“I’ll manage.”

 

Lance reached out to him and let his fingertips graze his lover’s heated forehead, his fingers threading through the soft fluff of white bangs as he pushed them from his face. Through the exacerbated coloring of his cheeks beneath his fever and the dark rings beneath his eyes, Lance was just as taken by him as he’d ever been. 

 

“What is it,” Shiro murmured, his voice a low rasp as Lance slowly let his hand fall away.

 

“I was just thinking about the time where I was tied up in knots over you and could barely handle you saying hello to me.”

 

“You’d turn so red when I had anything to say.”

 

“I know.  Pidge used to say that she’d keep a dustpan for ashes by her desk just in case you walked by and I burst into flames.”

 

He grinned at the memory, recalling just how easy it had been for a passing smile or wave to push his poor heart into overdrive. In truth, that was still all it took.

 

“Keith told me that it would probably give you a heart attack if I kept smiling at you.” 

 

“It almost did, but I’m surprised it was Keith who noticed.”

 

Shiro shrugged as best he could, “according to him, it was impossibly stupid not to notice. I tried to tell him that he was thinking too far into it and then he retaliated by saying I was also impossibly stupid.”

 

“Yeah, that sounds like him. Y’know, I thought I was just going overboard with some kind of hero worship or something- that I was getting too caught up with admiring how good you were at your job.”

 

“I mean, picture it-” Lance pantomimed, a flex of his hands accompanying each word, “Detective Shirogane: Kicking Ass with Class” 

 

Shiro rolled his eyes but his lips were curled into a smile, “dork.”

 

“I know,” Lance laughed, “but I mean really, I was so starstruck. Then I realized I also had an embarrassingly huge crush on you outside of your job. I’m just glad it wasn’t one-sided- I’ve read some wild fanfics about unrequited feelings and barfing flowers.”

 

Shiro snorted, “that sounds… interesting. I wouldn’t want you vomiting flowers.”

 

Pursing his lips, Lance tilted his head, “I wonder what kind of flower it would have been.”

 

“Are we really doing this?”

 

“Hush, I have to figure out what flower you represent for me.”

 

“Are we going to wind up fifteen pages deep on the internet trying to find flower meanings?”

 

Lance had to laugh at the tortured expression Shiro put on at the thought, “no, we don’t need that. I’m thinking that you would leave me with those flowers that smell like chocolate, chocolate cosmos.”

 

“Do I remind you of chocolate?”

 

“Delicious, addictive, and makes me happy? Yes, you remind me of chocolate.”

 

God, but he did love to watch Shiro’s skin redden when he was caught off guard by a sweet remark. 

 

“Good to know.”

 

“You are so terrible at dealing with sweetness.”

 

“Give me a break,” Shiro groaned, “I’m getting used to it.”

 

“Takashi Shirogane, we’ve been together for three years. Get used to it faster.”

 

“I’m sick and weak and you’re going to pick on me?”

 

“You are so full of it,” Lance chuckled, “but I’ll move on. Since we’re reminiscing, do you remember that trip we took down the West coast?”

 

Shiro hummed an affirmation as he tried to get comfortable, slowly turning his large form onto his back and closing his eyes, “how could I forget? You tried to teach me how to surf and I almost broke my neck.”

 

He couldn’t stop the snort of laughter at the memory of Shiro flailing after being caught over the rail by a very mild wave, “ it was pretty good to know that you aren’t infuriatingly good at everything you try-”

 

Reaching back over to him, Lance let his words trail as he laid the back of his hand over Shiro’s forehead after noticing a few stray beads of sweat. He was burning up.

 

“Where are you going?”

 

He’d only made it a few steps through the living room. Lance glanced back, noting Shiro’s eyes were still closed. 

 

“I’m getting you a cold washcloth; you’re on fire.”

 

“Would you keep talking? Focusing on something other than wanting to die is working out for me.”

 

“Remember you asked for this the next time I’m going a million miles a minute.”

 

Shiro only hummed in response.

 

“That trip was my favorite,” Lance recounted as he searched for a clean washcloth, raising his voice so that Shiro could hear him as he moved through the apartment, “the spontaneity of it- taking every day as it came. The best part of it, though, was the night of our two year anniversary.”

 

After finding what he was looking for, he padded back into the kitchen to drench the cloth in cool water and wring out the excess. A reel of film played in the back of his mind while he moved, images and memories of riding along the bluffs, of singing to the radio, of brilliant sunlight and laughter.

 

“That night was my favorite too,” Shiro admitted once Lance was close enough to catch his voice.

 

With a sweet smile, Lance folded the cloth and placed it on his boyfriend’s brow before taking his seat again. 

 

“What was your favorite part?”

 

“Watching you that night,” Shiro told him, voice fuzzy with fatigue, “seeing how happy it made you.”

 

Unable to stop himself, Lance pulled his chair closer to the couch so that he could run his hand over Shiro’s hair, fingers dipping through the soft tresses to massage his scalp. He needed to be touching him. The warmth in his stomach spread through his extremities, the honey-soaked tendrils of his words squeezing at his chest. 

 

“It made me very happy,” Lance murmured honestly, “it was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for me.”

 

And it had been. Even now, after nearly a year, he could still clearly picture the foam of cresting waves and the glitter of moonlight on the surface of the water. He remembered the feel of being held between his lover’s body and a blanket on the sands, the sound of loving praises and promises singing in his ears. He remembered wine, starlight, and the smile of the man he loved. 

 

“I’m glad it was me, then. I was worried it was too cheesy but I ran it by Allura and she thought it would be perfect too.”

 

“Our friends are gifts.”

 

“You’re a gift,” Shiro said on a sigh, “thank you for looking after me today.”

 

Eyes still closed, Shiro reached out a hand to him that Lance took into his own.

 

“ You look after me all the time, plus you’re way more open when you’re sick and I’m taking full advantage of extra cheesy, lovely Takashi.”

 

“I hope I make you feel just as loved when I’m not drugged with nyquil and burning up from fever.”

 

Lance squeezed his hand, “you do, you just lose some of that worry filter when you’re sick. You don’t need to worry about what you say with me, I’m just happy to know what you’re thinking.”

 

Shiro swallowed and his voice was noticeably thicker, “I love you. I’m sorry that I’m sick on Valentine's day. Did you get my flowers?”

 

He smiled at the thought of the silver vase sitting in the den, filled with vibrant blue irises and white orchid. Thoughtful and stunning, the gift was just like him. 

 

Even though he couldn’t see it, Lance nodded while he rubbed a thumb over Shiro’s knuckles, “I did and they’re beautiful, thank you. Don’t worry about it, I’ll take you somewhere nice when you’re feeling better.”

 

“Oh yeah? You going to wine and dine me?”

 

“I’m going to be so smooth you won’t even know what hit you.”

 

“Looking forward to it, Lance.”

 

“Me too. Now, you should try to get some sleep. Want me to sit here with you?”

 

“Please.”

 

That was all he needed to hear. With one hand still steadily combing through his hair and the other holding Shiro’s, Lance let his lover drift into sleep.

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
